Trembling
by honeyMellon
Summary: Ichigo thought he has left the horrors of the Winter War behind. Little did he know, the worst has yet to come. "Kurosaki Ichigo, I'm here to kill you."
1. Chapter 1

**This plot bunny bit me in the ass out of nowhere last night. Updates to this story will probably be slow, as I do want to finish my other two ongoing GrimmIchi's first. And then there's that Mile High Club that I want to expand…**

**This happens in an AU where I pretend that the Fullbring arc doesn't happen and Ichigo doesn't lose his powers after defeating Aizen. **

* * *

The pale crescent moon hung high in the dark sky of Hueco Mundo, bathing all beneath it with its gentle silver light. Sand stretched far and wide, neverending, forming dunes and valleys that seemed to go on indefinitely. It looked almost peaceful, so vast and empty unlike the hustle and bustle of Karakura or Soul Society; and perhaps some days it was, when the occupants of this world were not bent on annihilating one another.

But not this day.

Kurosaki Ichigo walked slowly amongst the bodies littering the white sands, Zangetsu clutched tightly in his fist as he tried hard not to look at the bloodied, slack faces on the ground. Most, he did not know personally, but one or two he thought he may have met before, albeit briefly.

All around him, others were doing the same, staggering dazed and disoriented as they finally took in the scene of carnage surrounding them. Here and there, the wounded coughed or groaned in pain. Occasionally, someone would sob, having recognized a fallen comrade. And there were so many.

Ichigo stumbled suddenly, his foot tripping over someone's sword, and he fell onto his knees. Zangetsu landed on the sand with a soft thud. He scrabbled for it immediately, his fingers closing over the hilt and tightening around it protectively. Desperately, because he needed something to ground him, to keep his panic from spiraling out of control. He panted, not from exertion, but from fear; heart-stopping fear that had been growing in his chest since the moment he awoke.

He must be here somewhere. He _must_! Just because Ichigo hadn't found him yet didn't mean he had fallen. There were many who were still just waking up, perhaps he was among them.

Ichigo sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. It was too soon; too soon to think of the worst. He would've taken it as an insult, surely, that Ichigo didn't think he was strong enough. Despite his worry, Ichigo found himself chuckling.

And that was when he caught sight of it: the scabbard of a sword, partially covered by the body of a shinigami. The wrappings around it was blue.

Light blue.

Like his hair.

Like his eyes.

_No._

Ichigo scrambled towards it, half crawling, half running. His knees scraped against rough sand and broken stumps of crystallized trees, but he didn't feel any pain. His world had narrowed down to that one sword.

The sword he would've _died_ before letting go of it.

Ichigo yanked it out from beneath the dead body, not caring that he had rolled the body over in his haste. The fallen shinigami stared lifelessly at the sky, his robes drenched red by a fatal chest wound. But, kind-hearted as he usually was, at this moment Ichigo could not care less about disturbing the dead. His hands trembled as he brought the sword up for a closer look.

It was _his_. Even if Ichigo disregarded the color of the scabbard, the shape of the guard was too unique for it to be anything else.

He was holding Pantera in his hands.

The light trembling of his hands became uncontrollable shaking, and with a cry of anguish, he pressed Pantera to his chest. He rocked forward, his body curled around the sword. Pain, sharper and harsher than he had ever felt, overwhelmed him completely.

It was a long time before he finally straightened up, Pantera still tightly clutched in his hands. His eyes burned, but he fought it. He forced himself to swallow around the painful lump in his throat. He wouldn't. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't-

And then he felt it: that first drop of tear, finally spilling over and slowly sliding down his cheek. He wiped it off, scrubbing his face with more force than necessary, angry at himself. But it wasn't his fault, was it? That bastard had been so confident, so certain that he'd win. And Ichigo had believed him.

_I'll be back before you know it._

Ichigo knew now, what those eyes had been trying to tell him. Perhaps Grimmjow was too proud to say it aloud, but his eyes had given him away. But of course Ichigo had been too thick to see it until now.

Until it was too late.

* * *

_Three months ago…_

Ichigo felt cheated.

He had imagined this moment many times; dreamed about it, even. Aizen had been defeated and sealed away, finally. The Espada had been wiped out. Karakura was safe again. His friends and family had survived. Wounded, yes, some more than others, but alive, which was more than he could say for those who had stood against him and his sword.

By all rights, he should be celebrating their hard-won victory. But the sense of triumph he was expecting never came. Instead, he felt almost...numb. Even when people shook his hand and called him a hero, he couldn't bring himself to feel the slightest bit of joy.

How could he? He had drawn blood, not only of his enemies but of his friend as well. He had driven Zangetsu clean through Ishida, who had only wanted to save him from the monster that he had become.

So, no, he had nothing to celebrate, but it was impossible to escape the clutches of those who did.

Soul Society buzzed with energy. Shinigami of all divisions and ranks flooded the streets and crowded the bars. Naturally, Ichigo found himself dragged to one by Renji, and he spent the night drinking his first cup of sake and more. It was just as well; half way into the evening he began to feel the warm glow of alcohol, and suddenly, celebrating didn't sound like such a bad idea after all.

By the time the bar closed and the shopkeeper shooed them out, it was late into the night. Despite the hour, the streets were still bright, though emptier than before. Ichigo ended up spending the night at Renji's, both of them exhausted and more than a little drunk. He was out before his head even hit the pillow, and that night he had a blissfully deep night of sleep.

When morning came, he bid his friends farewell and stepped through the Senkaimon that had been prepared specially for him, to return to the world he had fought so hard for. Karakura may not seem like much, but it was where he was born and raised. It was his home.

First, he made a pit stop at Urahara's to pick up his body. Even after so long, Ichigo still hadn't gotten used to the sight of his own body lying limp and lifeless on the floor. He gave an involuntary shiver, and then quickly stepped into his body.

His sisters greeted him with joy, while his father clapped him on the back. He exchanged a knowing look with his father, and the older man nodded, a slight smile tugging on his lips as he looked proudly at his son, the boy who had saved the world. They would have a good long talk soon. It was high time Ichigo learned about his parents' story.

Yuzu made him promise to help her make dinner, then he trudged his way up to his room. Pushing the door wide open, he closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. His room smelled a little musty, though he supposed it couldn't be helped. Padding over to his bed, he climbed onto it to open the window. A strong breeze hit him right in the face, the air cool and fresh against his skin, and for a brief moment, despite his dark mood, he couldn't help but smile a little.

It was good to be back, even if it felt strange. He had been so caught up by the war that he had known nothing but sword, blood, and pain for a long while, to suddenly have _nothing_ to fight against was jarring. He felt lost, somehow, like he no longer knew what to do with his life now that he had it back.

* * *

Later that night, Ichigo had his first nightmare of the Winter War.

He woke up, drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding in his ears. He clutched hard at his chest, right where Ulquiorra had punched through. The pain was crippling, and even though he knew it was just a dream, the ache felt real enough to make him gasp out loud. He saw, in his mind, the emerald green depths of Ulquiorra eyes, staring accusingly at him as the Espada slowly disintegrated in the wind. And next to him, teeth bared with murderous intent, was Grimmjow. Blood dripped steadily from the Sexta Espada's claws, and Ichigo nearly whimpered, suddenly remembering the feeling of those cruel talons ripping through his robe, tearing skin and shredding muscle.

"Just a dream..."

He willed his heart to calm down, reminding himself again that this was not real, that he had already left all that behind. Ulquiorra was gone, he had made sure of that. And he had watched Nnoitra destroy Grimmjow in a single swipe right in front of his eyes.

They were dead. Very dead.

Letting out a shaky breath, Ichigo rubbed his face vigorously. The phantom pain in his chest was slowly ebbing, and he sighed. Shit, if this was what he had to deal with from now on...

Just then, suddenly, he felt it: the eerie sensation of being watched. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he snapped his head up.

There, perched on his window sill, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, was a creature straight out of his worst nightmare. Even in the semi-darkness, the crazed grin was unmistakable.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, I'm here to kill you."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I had a serious bout of food poisoning yesterday, so I stayed home yesterday and today to rest. It's the first time I've ever had a fever from food poisoning, ugh. Anyways, the fever broke during the night and I finally had some time to write. It's short, but better than nothing, yeah?**

* * *

"Kurosaki Ichigo, I'm here to kill you."

Ichigo was up in a flash, having switched into spiritual form so fast that the back of his head - on his real body, that is - fell backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack. There would be a horrible bruise the next day, no doubt, but Ichigo was too busy thrusting Zangetsu at his enemy's face to worry about it.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques! How...how is this possible!"

"I'm-"

Ichigo never got to hear what Grimmjow was going to say, because the Espada suddenly lurched forward and fell - and landed face-down, unmoving, on Ichigo's bed.

Stunned and confused, Ichigo approached warily, just in case it was a trick. He didn't peg Grimmjow as the sneaky type, but what did he know,; they weren't exactly best friends, were they?

"Oi..." Ichigo poked the Espada's shoulder gingerly with the tip of his sword.

Nothing. Grimmjow just laid there, sprawled on top of Ichigo's sheets, still as a corpse.

"Huh."

Ichigo scratched his head. Carefully, he slung Zangetsu on his back and crept up to his unexpected visitor. He hesitated a little, then gave Grimmjow's shoulder another nudge.

"Oi!"

It was useless. He might as well be talking to a piece of rock. Holding his breath, he leaned closer, and with one big push, managed to roll the Espada onto his back, only to recoil immediately with a gasp of horror.

It was a wonder Grimmjow was able to come this far at all. There was a terrible gash across his torso - from Nnoitra's blade, no doubt - stretching from his shoulder all the way to the hip, so deep that Ichigo could see shards of bone beneath the ruined flesh.

Fighting down a wave of nausea, Ichigo did the only thing he could think of.

* * *

Urahara was at the door before they even touched down. Together, they hauled Grimmjow into one of the spare rooms, where Tessai was already waiting.

"Is he going to make it?" Ichigo looked worriedly at the Kido master, who had immediately started working on Grimmjow.

Tessai shrugged wordlessly.

"I don't understand...he should be dead," Ichigo muttered, eyeing the unconscious Espada.

Urahara tugged on his bucket hat. "With enough willpower, sometimes, one can achieve the impossible," he said. "You, of all people, should know, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo frowned, looking skeptical.

"You seem rather worried." Urahara raised his eyebrows and peered intently at Ichigo. "He did try to kill you, if I recall correctly. Now would be the perfect opportunity to..." The former captain dragged his fingers across his own throat.

"No," Ichigo said at once, fiercely. "He refused to fight me when I was down. I will extend him the same courtesy."

"I see." A faint smile crossed the shopkeeper's face, as if he was expecting the answer. "Well then, we'd better make sure he doesn't die tonight. Right, Tessai?"

The burly man nodded, his expression solemn. A pale yellow light hummed quietly under his palm, and slowly, Ichigo saw the wound begin to heal, the jagged edges of the cut gradually knitting together. Blood oozed from the injury as the skin pulled taut, trickling down Grimmjow's shoulder to stain the sheets beneath him.

The three of them remained by the Espada's side late into the night. Now and then Tessai would wipe his forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration. Ichigo knew it would be much faster if Orihime were here, but it was too dangerous, especially when they didn't know what Grimmjow's survival meant.

Were there others?

How much of Aizen's forces still remain, unnoticed?

Ichigo's head hurt trying to imagine what this could mean. Did this mean another war? For the love of all that's holy, he hoped not. He'd already had enough of violence to last several lifetimes over as it was.

By the time Tessai finally withdrew his hands, the sky had turned a pretty swirl of pink and blue.

Grimmjow remained unconscious, but his face had regained some color, and the injury across his torso had been sewn shut. It was still an angry red color and swollen, but at least it was no longer bleeding and exposed like it was before.

"You should go home, get some sleep," Kisuke suggested. And then, in a more ominous tone, "While you can."

* * *

In the end, it was the offer of a spare room next door that finally persuaded Ichigo to leave the Espada's side. Even then, he dragged his feet, staring intently at Grimmjow from the corner of his eye as he went, as if the Hollow-Shinigami hybrid could spring up at any moment. Given Grimmjow's purpose for coming here, Ichigo couldn't help but feel responsible for this. If anyone got hurt in the process, it would be his fault.

Sleep didn't come easily, but Ichigo was surprised that he actually managed to catch a wink here and there. But eventually, he was roused by the soft clinking of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Sitting up groggily, he rubbed his eyes and groaned when he felt the beginnings of a headache between his temples.

"Ah, Kurosaki-kun is awake! Coffee or tea?"

Ichigo scowled at the overly cheerful greeting from the shopkeeper and glanced at the closed door of the makeshift hospital ward.

Kisuke shook his head as he plucked a mug from the cabinet above. "Still unconscious," he said. "Really, though, with those injuries I'd be surprised if he woke up so soon. So you might as well make yourself comfortable. Pancakes okay?"

After much prodding, Ichigo accepted a cup of coffee and a pancake even though he didn't feel hungry at all. How could he be, with the threat of death looming over his head?

"What should we do?" He broke the silence at last.

Predictably, Kisuke lowered his bucket hat, hiding his eyes in the shade. Ichigo suppressed the urge to flick the ridiculous thing off his mentor's head, but he held it in. Annoying at it was, he knew that was Kisuke's 'thinking face', and he didn't want to interrupt the man's thoughts.

"We could notify Soul Society," Kisuke said. He took a long sip of tea, then continued, "After which he would be carted off to either death or a life in Maggot's Nest. _Or_…" Lifting the brim of his hat, he looked intently at Ichigo. "Or...he could be condemned to being Mayuri Kurotsuchi's test subject for the rest of his life. No doubt, that man would want to know what makes the Espada tick. After all, nobody really knows how the Hogyoku could bring about such a change. Aizen didn't exactly leave behind notes from his experiments..."

"No!" Ichigo slammed his mug down, hard enough to rattle the plates. "Not Mayuri...not even him." Once again, he thought of the crazed grin on the Espada's face and shivered at the killing intent behind it, but of this he was certain. No one-except perhaps Aizen himself-deserved to be subjected to such a cruel punishment. "Plus, shouldn't we find out if there's anything left in Hueco Mundo? If he survived, who's to say there aren't others?"

Kisuke nodded slowly. "You are right, of course. We need that information, and we can't get it if Soul Society snatches him away, can we?" There was a shrewd gleam in his eyes, and Ichigo suddenly got a feeling that Kisuke had never planned to inform Soul Society all along.

"So…"

"So, we wait."

* * *

The wait turned from hours to days, and days melted into weeks. Ichigo returned home and went about his life as normally as he could. Going to school again felt strange after such a long absence. For the first few days, he was puzzled by the way the teachers and most of his classmates seemed to treat him like glass, and that was when he found out that they had been told that he was away because of a life-threatening illness. Ichigo's eyebrow twitched as Ochi-sensei tearfully recounted the heartbreaking scene of Isshin informing her of the horrible news.

Every evening, like clockwork, Ichigo went to Urahara Shoten. Physically, Grimmjow was recovering, his wounds slowly healing under Tessai's care. Yet, he remained stubbornly still. Only the rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was alive at all. He was becoming gaunt, his cheekbones becoming more prominent, with only Tessai's mysterious concoctions providing the necessary nutrients.

It was agony, helplessly watching and waiting. In the meantime, Ichigo spent his time in the underground training grounds. Sometimes Kisuke would join him, and they would spar, more to provide an outlet for Ichigo's restless energy than actual training, since Ichigo had long since surpassed Kisuke.

And then one day, it finally happened.

* * *

"Let me go, you Shinigami filth! I'll kill you!"

Ichigo rushed into the room, nearly tripping over the threshold of the door in the process. His robes were in tatters and his face dusty and bruised from training, but those were forgotten instantly the second he felt the surge in spiritual power upstairs. His grip tightened around Zangetsu's hilt as he took in the state of the room.

Grimmjow was writhing on the floor, his limbs held firmly in place by golden ropes of kido. His face was pale and he was obviously still weak, but he was certainly fighting with all his might. His hair, a darker blue from sweat, was matted to his face, and he was growling and spitting like a wild animal.

Tessai looked up at Ichigo and Kisuke, who had just arrived. "Well, he's awake alright," he said dryly.

At that, Grimmjow snapped his attention to the newcomers, and his eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Ichigo.

"_You_! What have you done to me!"

Ichigo felt his temper rise. "What have we done? We healed you, you ungrateful bastard!" he shouted back, thrusting Zangetsu in the Espada's face.

The yelling seemed to have robbed Grimmjow of his strength, and he slumped onto the floor, still conscious but no longer struggling against his bonds. But he continued to glare fiercely at Ichigo.

"Why," Grimmjow gasped, shivering in pain and exhaustion. "Why do you always do this? I don't need your...your fucking...fucking pity, Kurosaki!"

"You mean why I didn't just kill you off while you're down?" Ichigo crouched down and scowled at the Espada. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not fighting for power. I just want to protect my friends, and I have done that. I have no reason to kill you."

Grimmjow blinked as though surprised, then he laughed weakly. "But I'm still...still going to kill...kill you."

And then his eyes rolled back into his head, and he went limp.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**This update is long overdue! Thank you to everyone who's still following this story! You can thank Tango Dancer and thekurosakiconundrum for getting me back into the writing mood. If you haven't heard of them, do go check out Tango Dancer's _Sorrowful Tears of the Moon _and thekurosakiconundrum's _El Juramento._ Especially _El Juramento_, if you're in the mood for some red hot smut. ;) **

* * *

"Seriously," Ichigo muttered, staring at the prone form of the Sexta Espada. "This is getting old."

Tessai shook his head and waved away the kido spell that had kept his patient down. Grimmjow was once again out of commission, having seemingly exhausted himself into unconsciousness with that brief outburst.

"He's still weak now," said Tessai. He looked gravely at Ichigo, then at Kisuke, who was hovering behind the younger man. "But he is regaining his strength every day. The next time he wakes up, we might not be able to get away with it so easily."

"True." Kisuke nodded. He rummaged through his sleeves for a moment, then, to Ichigo's surprise, whipped out a pair of black, ominous-looking handcuffs. Striding over to Grimmjow, the blonde shopkeeper knelt down and began to bind the Espada's wrists. He seemed to struggle with it for a good long while, working it this way and then that…

Tessai cleared his throat. "Are you sure those are the right ones?" the man asked, his cheeks oddly pink.

Something was beginning to give Ichigo a bad feeling...

"Ah ha! No wonder, got the wrong one there," Kisuke said merrily before stuffing them back into those magical sleeves of his and bringing out another pair. "That one is Yoruichi's favorite and we were…"

Ichigo had never flash stepped out of a room that quickly in his life.

* * *

Grimmjow did not wake again for several more days. If he was angry the last time, he was downright _livid_ this time. When Ichigo burst into the room, the Espada was snarling and tearing at the power-limiting cuffs around his wrists. His eyes flashed dangerously when they settled on Ichigo.

"Before you say a word," Ichigo jabbed his finger in Grimmjow's face before pointing it in Kisuke's direction. "This was _his_ idea."

"I'll fucking kill you all," Grimmjow growled in a strained voice. He was clearly still in pain and was favoring his left side, but it didn't stop him from trying to glare them all to death.

"Honestly, Grimmjow." Ichigo sat down, careful to keep his distance but close enough to take a good look at the Espada. "Why do you even still want to fight? Aizen's gone. He's _dead_. You are free!"

There was a beat of silence.

Then another.

And then it dawned on Ichigo. "You didn't know?"

Grimmjow shook his head slowly. His fire, burning so fiercely just seconds ago, was gone.

Ichigo felt a bit ridiculous, but watching the look of devastation on Grimmjow's face almost made him want to offer his condolences. "Well, yeah, I killed him," he said, swallowing the "sorry" that threatened to follow.

Grimmjow looked around at the other occupants in the room, still a little doubtful, but when Kisuke and Tessai both nodded their heads, the Espada's shoulders slumped.

"Damn."

"Well, it was sort of a good thing for us," Kisuke said lightly. When Grimmjow merely kept silent and stared morosely at the floor, he added, genuinely feeling curious, "I wasn't aware that you were so attached…"

There was a loud snort as Grimmjow laughed. "Hell no," he said with an air of distaste. "As if. I only followed him because he promised me power. If I had known he's so weak that even _you_ can kill him..." he glared at Ichigo. "Guess I shouldn't have wasted my time on that useless piece of shit."

Ichigo's eyebrows twitched. This was _it!_ He had had enough of this unfounded hostility. "Why the hell do you hate me so much?" he yelled, lunging at the Espada before Kisuke could stop him. "What have I done to deserve this?"

Grimmjow looked at him, completely unfazed by the sudden proximity. "You're breathing."

"Why you little…"

"Children! Children!" Kisuke hurried over to pry them apart. He gave Ichigo's shoulder a squeeze. "Let's not get too excited! _You-_" he wagged a finger at Grimmjow. "I know you're upset that Aizen's dead-"

"Am not!"

Turning to Ichigo, Kisuke shook his head. "And _you_ know he's just trying to rile you up - and _succeeding_ if I may add."

Ichigo looked ashamed.

"Well, this is enough excitement for the day," Kisuke said, pulling Ichigo to his feet by the collar of his shirt. "Let's give Grimmjow some space to mourn-"

"Oh fuck you! Like I give two shits-"

The door slammed shut and Ichigo staggered into the hallway, pushed along by his mentor and Tessai, who immediately put a kido spell in place to secure the room. Right on cue, it rattled on its hinges as Grimmjow pounded on it from the inside.

"Let me out! I'm gonna kill you all!"

"My my, he's starting to sound like a broken record," Kisuke said dryly.

* * *

After a while, Grimmjow finally gave up. His hands were starting to hurt and he was getting no closer to breaking down that door. Whatever those cuffs were, they were doing a damn good job at suppressing his powers. He could not feel even a hint of his spiritual power, much less summon a Cero to incinerate the fucking door like he really wanted to.

Huffing in frustration, he slumped against it and slid to the floor. He couldn't believe Aizen had lost. Though, despite his ranting, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Ichigo was the one to defeat the mad man. The main reason he hated that kid so much was his stubborn determination after all. It was as if Ichigo truly believed that he could do anything if he just put his mind to it.

Perhaps it was true, Grimmjow mused grudgingly. He knew he was powerful and he wasn't afraid to show off, but if he was honest to himself, he wasn't actually confident that he could beat Ichigo. Now if only their fights didn't keep getting interrupted…

Another wave of pain seized his body suddenly, and Grimmjow hissed through gritted teeth, his thoughts of defeating Ichigo fading a little. Damn that Nnoitra! Sneaking up on him like this and humiliating him in front of the kid...he would kill him if he wasn't already dead. He had found bits of the Quinto Espada scattered across the sand before leaving Hueco Mundo and felt not a single shred of pity.

Cursing under his breath, Grimmjow dragged himself to the futon and flopped down on it. He pressed down on his left side, shuddering through another stab of pain, and closed his eyes.

But sleep did not come easily, even though pain and exhaustion was making him groggy. His anger was slowly waning. In its place was a sudden, deep, sense of loss. Perhaps that idiot blonde was right after all. Perhaps Grimmjow _was _mourning - mourning for the loss of his life as he knew it. He was never the philosophical type: no, he was definitely more of an attack-now-think-later kind of guy. But Kisuke had touched a nerve.

What purpose did he have now, if he was no longer fighting in the war? What was the point of becoming more powerful, if not to defeat his enemies? What hope did he have now to topple the Shinigami, if he had no army?

But then, a boyish face, framed by a shock of messy, spiky hair in the most obnoxious shade of orange, floated into his mind. He smirked. Of course, he still had that to live for.

He would kill that little punk, if that was the last thing he did.

* * *

"Why did you get in my way?" Ichigo growled, glaring at Kisuke. "He deserves a punch in the face, or maybe a sword through his gut…"

"My, he really got to you, didn't he? It's not like you to resort to such senseless violence, Kurosaki-kun." Kisuke peered at his student over the top of his ever-present fan.

Ichigo scowled. "He didn't _get_ to me," he muttered. He had a feeling that he was beginning to sound like a petulant child, but he didn't care. "He's just annoying, that's all."

"Hmm." Kisuke offered his student a cup of tea and took a seat at the coffee table. "You did have the chance to, ah, nip it at the bud, so to speak. You could've-" he swiped a finger across his throat.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "We went over that already," he said.

"So we did." Kisuke smiled. He sipped his tea, let out a satisfied "Ahhh", and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now, what should we do with our favorite Espada?"

* * *

Ichigo stared at the small, dilapidated looking hut in the middle of the training ground. "Really? You expect him to live in that thing?"

Kisuke gave him an innocent look.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"It looks much nicer inside than it seems, Kurosaki-kun. Open space floor plan, private bathroom, a good sized walk-in closet too! And you should see the bed…"

"I don't care about the fucking bed! This has got to be the stupidest idea I've ever heard, and that's saying a lot coming from _me!_"

Ichigo glared at his mentor, exasperated. He considered whacking the man on the head, but decided that it would be a waste of his time. He didn't see how this would work. Sure, Grimmjow was better now so he didn't need to be fussed over by Tessai anymore, but this was just ridiculous. Did Kisuke truly expect a crazed, violence-loving Espada to stay down there quietly and play house? With nothing better to do, it was only a matter of time before Grimmjow destroyed the underground training area. And what if he broke out?

Shit, Ichigo would kill Kisuke if Grimmjow ended up escaping and started prowling the streets of Karakura. He didn't care if Kisuke was the smartest man in Soul Society...

"Eh, why the fuck not."

Startled, Ichigo whirled around to find the Espada standing not two feet behind him. No kido bindings, no sword to his throat. He was just standing there, arms casually crossed over his chest with a bored look on his face.

"You! How did you-" Ichigo instinctively reached for Zangetsu, forgetting for a split moment that he wasn't in spirit form.

"Relax." Grimmjow spread his arms and indicated the black bands around his wrists. "I can't do shit with these things."

Standing next to Grimmjow, Tessai nodded gravely. "I guarantee there is absolutely no way he can get these off."

"He could chop his hands off," Ichigo pointed out, then immediately regretted it because Grimmjow burst out laughing.

"I guess I could," the Espada snorted with a smirk. "Though I think it would crimp my style a bit, don't you think?"

Ichigo resisted the urge to cross his arms defensively. "Whatever," he said. Then he glared at Kisuke again. "Now what? He's just going to stay there forever? You can't possibly think-"

"Yes, yes." Kisuke snapped his fan shut with a flourish. "Now, here's what's going to happen..."

* * *

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to yawn. It was almost fun to see the kid freak out over this. He didn't blame him. Honestly, he was surprised the shopkeeper would strike up this deal with him.

It was simple enough. He could hide out here, in the human realm, while he returned to his full strength - Kisuke would make sure he remained under Soul Society's radar. In return, once he was fully healed, he was to go to Hueco Mundo and search for other possible survivors.

Grimmjow didn't know what business Kisuke would have with the survivors, if there were any. He supposed it would be useful to know if they needed to worry about a second war or something along those lines, but it wasn't like there would be an army left to do that. Last he saw, he was the only one standing when he came to after Nnoitra's attack.

Either way, it didn't matter to him. He didn't like any of the other Espada enough to care about their survival. A few of them he didn't know well at all, while others like Ulquiorra and Nnoitra...good riddance. His only regret was he wasn't the one to kill them.

Grimmjow glanced at the kid. Ichigo was still making a nuisance of himself, his face red from arguing with the blonde. But it seemed Kisuke was winning, if the pout on the substitute Soul Reaper's face was any indication. The sight made Grimmjow smirk smugly, but his sense of victory was dashed when he finally started paying attention to their conversation.

"_Fine. _But I get to kill him if he breaks the terms," Ichigo was saying. He turned to Grimmjow, eyes flashing dangerously.

Barely holding back a flinch under that predatory gaze, Grimmjow couldn't quite squash the sense of foreboding that suddenly loomed over his head...

Wait. What?

Kisuke smiled as if they weren't just discussing the potential execution of a man who was standing right there. "It's a deal."

* * *

**To be continued...**


End file.
